


Take the Lead

by DollyPop



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Tango, dance lessons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 22:02:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6584344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DollyPop/pseuds/DollyPop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was, as Soul had once put it, “Rhythmically Challenged”.</p><p>So, having to take tango lessons for Marie and Stein's wedding? Now,<i>that</i> was the <i>worst</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take the Lead

Maka must have stepped on Soul’s foot for the 70th time and she wished to Death she could say it was on purpose. She could usually fake enough dancing prowess to squeak by, but in a professional dancing class? Forget it. She was better off doing the hula with Tsubaki’s kusarigama.

Why did Marie have to insist that all her bridesmaids learn to tango? The entire room had been rented out so all of them could fit with their accompanying groomsmen. Maka had heard a rumor (by which she means Stein’s flat deadpan) that, originally, there weren’t supposed to be any groomsmen at all. But, perhaps against Stein’s wishes and in favor of Marie’s, Stein had ended up with a lovely gaggle of semi-unruly teenage boys and Maka’s Father, who was the equivalent. 

And they were all having just about as great of a time as the groom was whilst learning to dance properly. Stein was trying to position his hands in a way that wouldn’t make Marie aware of just how miniscule she was in comparison, and they had been attempting the same dance move for the past ten minutes. A quick survey around the room revealed the same situation with nearly everyone else, including Liz, who was desperately trying to keep herself as balanced as possible so as not to flare up Kid’s need to fix her stance, _again_.

And Maka had very recently been reminded, for the eighteenth time that, she wasn’t supposed to (read: allowed) lead the dance.

To which she promptly grit her teeth and prevented the “Screw that” from coming out with the scathing bitterness of a woman scorned.

She was a Meister, damnit. She was used to leading.

It was the 21st century, anyway. Who said she couldn’t lead? So what, Soul seemed to have more knowledge of the dance in general? That didn’t mean that Maka couldn’t lead them in a dance in the same way she could lead them in a battle. Why her instructors had to be so sexist, Maka would never know, and every time she spotted them, she felt her eyelid twitch.

The atmosphere was just a _little_ tense.

Putting aside the fact that the instructors were total assholes, Maka suspected that, even if they were better, she doubts any of them would fare much better, anyway.

They could defeat the Kishin, but they couldn’t learn a ballroom dance? Waltz was the extent of what Maka had learned from her mother before the woman had split, and Maka had been able to live with that.

But Tango?

Damnit, how difficult was Slow, Slow, Quick, Quick, Slow supposed to be? Left foot back, right foot forward, and move! Easy enough.

Soul hissed a breath in between his sharp teeth as Maka faltered, going quick when she should have been going slow. She muttered out a “Sorry,” as she looked down at her feet, though she was getting more and more frustrated as the beats went by. One of the instructors was off to the side, calling out commands, though it did little to help direct any of them properly.

It was just like resonating, wasn’t it? They had taken basic dance classes because it was proven to help resonance rates, but it was never something so advanced and specific. It was more like quiet swaying while your souls linked, a smooth step whenever it felt natural.

Tango didn’t feel natural. Nothing about the situation felt natural. Maka had showed up in shorts since it was so warm outside, and with every movement, she could feel them shifting around uncomfortably, the denim rubbing against her skin. Soul looked out of place, the music and steps making him feel awkward. She knew he hated most social situations, and he probably wouldn’t have agreed if it wasn’t for Marie’s pleading stare, telling him it was a good bonding experience.

Bullshit.

Besides which, wasn’t it only supposed to be the marrying couple that learned to dance? Maka was pretty sure that was the usual guideline. But what Marie wanted, Marie would have. All of them adored her too much to say no, especially since she was, in Maka’s opinion, taking one for the team and marrying the Professor. He’d never seemed happier than he was when she came into his life, and Maka supposed that was what a good relationship should have looked like.

Though, she was certain that Stein didn’t want to be there, either. None of them seemed to want to be. Even Marie started to seem like she was regretting her decision. One of the instructors had walked up to Stein and tried to direct where his hands were meant to go, trying to encourage him, but the good Doctor had the grace of a drugged giraffe, and his long limbs and massive stature did not make for very smooth dancing.

Failing equally as much, though arguably more so, was Liz in her efforts to chain Kid’s panic in long enough to get the steps down. What he did with his left foot, he always attempted to do with his right, since that was how he was hardwired, and he must have stepped on Liz’s foot even more than Maka had stepped on Soul’s. Patti had given up on the dance altogether, as tango for three was pointless when none of them had even the faintest clue how to dance. Frankly, Maka was somewhat surprised that Kid wasn’t better at it, considering he always acted like such a proper gentleman.

Maka didn’t even want to look at how poor Tsubaki was dealing. At least Azusa and Naigus were having a decent enough time, quietly memorizing steps in the corner, but even they didn’t look particularly _happy_.

Hell, Maka knew for a fact that Marie had donned steel-toed stiletto boots for the lesson, as well, so she supposed all of them were fairing equally as well.

That is to say: poorly.

“Maka, c’mon,” Soul whined when he attempted to turn her and only managed to get a heel to his pinky-toe. Maka winced. Soul already seemed to know how to dance, something she had known when they first danced in his soul. But in the soul was different from in the flesh and in the flesh, Maka was sure that she had bruised both Soul’s feet as well as his shoulder from how hard she was holding on to it.

The irritation rising in her almost bubbled out. She was the girl who defeated the Kishin! She had saved the world with the help of her friends. She had made a Death Scythe!

The steps weren’t the problem. She was a physically fit woman and she trained several hours a day. No, the issue was putting it to music.

She was, as Soul had once put it, “Rhythmically Challenged”. The comment had earned him a prompt smack with the nearest book, and remembering it was making her want to do so again, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong, this time. He was just trying to help.

And he was her partner. In everything. In anything.

She just wished she could _get it right_.

 

Her eyebrow twitched in annoyance, but Soul’s soul flickered brightly in his chest, flaring up as though to soothe her.

It was just like resonance, wasn’t it?

Were they allowed to resonate, then? Would they be too distracted? Soul smiled down at her, seeming pleased that her fury had been squashed, and his contentment started rubbing off on her, twitching her lips up as she leaned closer to him.

And then she heard the instructor, likely with good intentions, tell Stein that “it isn’t brain surgery”.

The entire room stopped and Maka whirled around to look at the scene just as Marie’s barely muffled giggles broke out. Stein stared at the instructor, his eyes likely blinking blankly from behind his glasses, seeming far less amused than his wife-to-be was. Marie was clutching his shirt in her fists, hiding her face against his chest as she chortled, and, in barely a second, Liz snorted so loudly that Maka couldn’t help but bite her lip.

The tension had been broken, and Maka threw her head back, laughing at how ridiculous it all was. They had all accomplished so much in their lives, all of them having faced utter destruction and coming out of it with their lives still intact, and yet something like a tango was tripping almost all of them up.

Stein’s voice, barely heard over the uproar all of their giggles were causing, rung out. “I understand it isn’t brain surgery. I can, and have, successfully completed brain surgery. _On myself_. Would you like a demonstration?”

Marie’s laugh roared out even louder, and Maka looked over at Soul, grinning even wider and when he grinned back, she realized they had naturally fallen into resonance with each other, and she thinks, all things considered, dancing Tango wasn’t really that bad. Not when it was with him, anyway.

Even if she did step on his feet.


End file.
